Driven

this is a story that I wrote as a direct result of today�s economy. I took a man and modeled him after myself and tried to follow him into another world... how would he survive and what would he do, if he lost everything. Many of this write is my own per

 

Driven

Today is cold, I feel like an ice cube expanding in a glass. The weather has been quite frightful, one-day snow the next freezing rain. My heating bill has skyrocketed into a subliminal orbit that I care not to visit any time soon. The power to my home is now disconnected; those bureaucrats could care less about the thickness of my blood and the hardship that has swarmed into my life. The value of my home has dropped to a record low. What use to be four hundred thousand dollar home is now worth only one hundred thousand and I cannot even sell it…any takers. The worst of this bout is the foreclosure sign have driven into the solid ground and now resembles the rest of the neighborhood like a common decorative flower.

The economical crisis has plagued the entire world with it hitting hardest in my favor state of Michigan.  Observing, how quickly does the beauty of the landscape change when a storm rips a home from its foundation. My job, a controls engineer, has vanished like a magician performing the disappearing woman act. I now compete with one thousand others for the same position, and for the more common positions, I fight with the new kids on the block, those who just entered the work force.   

My SUV stays locked in the garage until the day of eviction so that the repo man cannot steal it back from me. Fortunately, there are no cars on the street, making it is easy to spot the repo man. It is funny when you think about a five hundred dollar car payment; you have to ask yourself…”what was I thinking?” 

Eating has now become a luxury, begging has replaced my job, and only one person knows the truth. I’m starting to lose weight as people form their own illusions of my life.

 

Hey Billy, how is business today?

“Very slow RP, very slow?”

“I hope you don’t mind me to continue to ask, but do you have any scraps?”

“Sure RP, man dud, you dog eats better than you. I have several bags of bones, a variety of meat; you can take them all, if you like.”

“Thanks Billy, yeah he does, doesn’t he.” RP said with a smile.

 

I suppose I should ask myself how I’m going to cook these bones but just the thought of food made me feel flabbergasted as a loud bursting growl immerged from my stomach. Of course storing the bones is easy since the house temperature is about forty degrees…life in a semi-depression.

 

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Karen and her boyfriend Jonathan rang my bell while the propane bottle bubbles the water on my portable stove. The aroma of the beef bones did hide the sourness of the house, since I had not cleaned for a while. I invited them in as Karen present me with a warm pot of rice and bean…”bless you Karen, and your kindness.”

“RP, you really think it’s such a good idea to live alone like this, you must be feeling major trauma and depression. To go from having hundred plus thousand dollars a year to eating scraps has to have whittled away at your mind. Jonathan and I still have income because there are two of us, although we barely survive. “

“Oh Karen, you know I love you for your kind jesters and warm heart but give me a break…I no more can find a woman of my liken, in such a devastating time, then I can sell my house and recoup my losses.”

“RP, I left you an extra canister of propane outside. Use it sparingly; the cost of it is raising like mortgage the foreclosures. I’ll go put it by the porch.”  Jonathan said.

“I will Jonathan, thanks.”

“Pssst, RP, a friend of mine cleans a lady’s house over on Berkshire Rd, you know that well to do neighborhood. Well she say’s you can rob that house easily, no alarm, or camera system. She also say the lady never lock the safe, although I could not vouch for this, it might be some easy money.”

“Karen are you crazy? I could never do something like that, you know how difficult life is, and now you want me to risk all this just for a few dimes…”

“ALL OFWHAT RALPH, what do you have here…YOU’RE A BONE HEAD, REALLY THINK ABOUT HOW STUPID THAT SOUNDS.”

“I’m sorry Karen; I know you’ve done so much for me during these trying times…I suppose it worth a chance to review.”

“I didn’t mean to yell at you, you nitwit, but if you don’t do something soon, you’ll be on the street and Jonathan  and I have already discussed it, you can’t live with us…it’s all we can do to take care of ourselves.”

“Ok Karen, what’s the address?”

“it’s 1225 Berkshire Rd. it is a large house worth more than five-million dollars on today’s market. The woman’s name is Emily Houseman. She is extremely wealth, the safe is unlocked, and the back door is too.  Use the side driveway; it will take you to the rear of the house. Go there around one-o’clock in the morning. Do it tonight!”

“Thanks Karen.”

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OMG, I have never robbed a house in my life.  I don’t even know what I need, what tools or what to do if someone surprises me. I suppose I could use some duct tape, plastic bags, maybe some Rubbermaid containers…they should come in handy and a few odds and ends like a screwdriver, hammer, saw…wonder what I would need a saw for…better not think about that. Hmmm, what about a weapon, what should I take? I guess a knife would have to do, although what is a harmless old person going to do to me…I burst out laughing…say boo.

After loading my silver fox…Lincoln Navigator with all the supplies, I carefully scouted out for that annoying repo man and when the coast was clear, I sped down the road towards the houseman house. This neighborhood is so classy I have to wonder what Karen was thinking to suggest I would do this job.

As I pulled into the driveway, this millionaire’s mansion has much style as well as grace. The property lights ignited the perimeter and the three-story house came into view. A lovely red brick mansion with a tinge of ice layering the roof as the moon cast an eerie glow. I know that cannot be a good sign but I am here so I must complete this job. Must be at least twenty-five rooms in this house, I suppose I’ll have to be selective so as to get in and out in a flash.

I turned the knob to the back door, it squeaks, and open’s. I hurry in as this door leads to the kitchen. In the kitchen, I fill a bag with silverware. It looks expensive so I took as much as I could find. A Severing platter has an engraving of twenty-four karats and it is very heavy, a solid gold platter, that should be worth at least fifty thousand. I’ll get about ten thousand for it. Also a cookie jar with a couple of thousand in it, I just stuff the cookie jar into another bag. I worked my way down the hall until I came to a portrait of Emily Houseman; this portrait has her looking quite attractive and young, maybe late twenties. I moved the painting and the safe appeared. Just as Karen said, the safe was unlocked. In the safe was a load of money, maybe a couple of hundred thousand dollars, and my greed had eaten away at my curiosity.  I searched the house for more goodies that I could fence. 

As I entered the living room, a spotted a Vincent Van Gogh painting on the wall a Portrait de L'Artiste sans Barbe, which I believe, is worth tens of millions of dollars and Boy with a Pipe by Pablo Picasso is worth at least hundred million dollars. I packaged the paintings and frames, carefully placing them into many plastic bags so as not to damage them. Along the fireplace was a solid silver poker, ash scoop, which I placed under my arm, as I figured I had enough and headed for the door. As I passed the stairwell, I caught a glimpse of a woman out of the corner of my eye. I turned my peripheral vision towards her and could see she was stalk naked.   It was the woman in the portrait, Emily Houseman. So much for boo as my mind froze while I tried to figure a way out of there.

The inspiring gleam of Emily body had me in a trance. I turned to run and accidently hit Emily with the silver poker, as it smacked her in the long of the neck. I watched her fall in slow motion and my heart fell along side her. OMG, what the hell did I just do? What do I do?

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In a state of panic, I felt for her pulse, but there was none. I listened for breathe but no breathe was expelled or inhaled. I gave her CPR, breathing into her mouth with two puffs, compressing her chest five times then repeating it again and again. I was sure Emily was dead. My entire world stopped spinning.  My life took a backseat to rapid adrenaline rush, smashing into my brain. I felt numb all over, and I wanted to wake up from this horrible nightmare. I tried pinching myself but no success, Emily still lies dead on the floor. I continued to try but after ten minutes of CPR I came to my senses, and accepted she was dead. I couldn’t tell if her chest rose, if it did I wouldn’t have known it, all I could tell was her body felt warm, and  my conscious felt guilt. I now knew what it felt like to open, Pandora’s box.

I covered Emily’s naked body and sat with my head between my knees. I could hear the switches in my mind clicking at rapid succession, searching for an anatomical solution out of this mess.  The first clicking switches pushed the well-known solution indicating to call the police, and it quickly discarded by those quiet voices circulating in any normal persons head. For why would the police believe a bumbling fool who kills a beautiful rich woman?   The second famous solution was to get rid of the body. I have a hacksaw, and I could cut her up into tiny pieces…I could no more cut a bloody steak then to cut such a work of art. Shot down again.

Finally, the switches clicked on a winning combination. Dispose of Emily in the lake and take the money, and leave the country.  The lake is not totally frozen and it goes for miles and miles.  Well it was that or suicide, which continued to cross my mind. After a few more minutes of sulking, I started putting things back in their place, while wiping fingerprints from objects I touched. Dawn was nearing so I knew I needed to work fast. Grabbing the money and Emily, and get the hell out of there, was a top priority…thinking can I pull this off deeply embedded in my subconscious.

I arrived at my house; pulling into the garage and place the money into a safe place that I was sure no one could find. I could see Emily body tucked behind the spare tire and the boxes of supplies that take the ride with me every day. I knew it was time to go.  I glanced at my phone and saw a message from Karen. There was no way I would talk to that evil woman again. If it were not for her, I would still be enjoying my solitude while eating leftover bones from Billy’s Butchers.  

I headed out to the lake as an eerie feeling kept tingling in the back of my neck. I knew the adrenalin was still pumping, and the shock still present as the thirty-minute trip continued to rip my mind. I heard air escaping from Emily’s body, which I knew was common with a dead body. In a haze, I thought about all the common normality that dead body’s exhibit. One of the most common is relieving bodily fluids, which Emily did not do. The other, surely the freakiest one to boot, was sitting up, or moving of the legs or arms…oh God, please don’t let her do that…please, I begged.  When I arrived at the lake, the fog was so thick; I immediately drifted into a horror movie.

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I grabbed so rope and bricks, placing them on the shore, and then I lifted Emily’s body and carried her to where I would send her on her way.  I figured some words would be necessary after taking such a beautiful woman’s life. 

A flash in the back of my mind sent me to the top of a fourteen thousand foot mountain. High above the clouds, as I stood there I could see Emily’s face, and the guilt was so intense I leaned over the mountain. I sailed outward, while touching the clouds realizing they were soft. I extended my arms and the ground came into view. “I’m sorry, echoed from that back of my mind as the ground rushed up…shaking my head, suicide thoughts again.

I uncovered Emily’s face from the blanket and realized her eyes were open. I didn’t remember that from before…but I can’t start getting freaky on myself. When I looked into her eyes I could see her soul, and this to me was odd, why would I see a dead woman’s soul but it was so over-powering…I wanted to kiss her and hold her. My poor eyes burned so much from crying the illusions seemed to derive from my own eyes and not my mind. I bent over and kissed her lips while gazing into her beautiful blue…HER LIPS KISSED BACK…OMG, SHE’S ALIVE!. Her eyes followed mine, every little move but all I could think of is hospital.

 

I place her back in the SUV and drove like a mad man to the hospital. The doctors and nurses took her immediately into triage. I filled out as much of the paperwork as I could, and even lied by saying she was my wife. My palms were sweating and my stomach hurt from all nerves energy that was wrapping in mind. What am I to do when she tells the police what really happened? Just then, the doctor came out and approached me.

“Mr. Houseman, I’m Dr. Kalama, your wife is doing fine. She suffered a major concussion from the blow to her head. She will recover completely. She would like to see you know.”

“Thank you Dr. Kalama.”

As I walked in the room Emily’s eyes locked in on me and followed me to the bed. Shortly after the doctors and nurses left t he room, Emily Spoke.

“I know your names Ralph and you robbed my house, hit me behind my head, and were going to dispose of my body. For all of this I should hate you, but, for the first time in life, I watched a grown man cry tears of pain, not because he thought he killed me but because his heart is one of love. So instead of hating you, I actually feel as if I love you…Can you understand my reasoning?”

“Actually, no, but I’m so happy you’re alive and the pain I suffered was so intense…thank you for choosing the latter.”

“Ralph, that was a hell of a first date…does it get better?”

I just smiled.

 

Reviews

[Saturnalia]

Whoa, what a twist. Cute ending. A few things bothered me, one being some grammar issues. You should definitely proof read it. There are quite a few punctuation and capitalization errors. The dialogue seemed a little forced to me and kind of pedantic. Another thing is a grown man thinking "OMG". That just seemed a little odd to me.

Other than that, I like the story. So serious in the beginning, and then it turns out to be humorous. If the recession does turn to depression, I won't be stealing from any old ladies...

[Pj]

Hahahahaha! What a stitch! So serious in the beginning- but sheesh the ending is so hysterical!

Fantastic write!

Ralphy Ralphy Ralphy

This is one of the most amazing stories I have ever read.

You get a trophy for this, maybe even the Pulitzer prize, if they don't give it to you, I will give you mine if I ever do get one, you would deserve it more than I ever can. This is just way up there.

And damn hilarious.

Amazing fundamentals. This is such an amazing piece.

[Winter McPherson]

OMG! What a hilarious ending! Boy....it started out kinda depressing then took a turn I never saw coming with the "murder". But....I suspected she was still alive, I don't know why.

Really great story Ralph......this is a fiction, right??? ;)

[Ralphy]

this is a story that I wrote as a direct result of today's economy. I took a man and modeled him after myself and tried to follow him into another world... how would he survive and what would he do, if he lost everything. Many of this write is my own perception of survival. I question almost everything in life so you might see that in my writings. When I look at life I see heaven�

[just is]

Wow! Such an amazing story here, you can hold a theme and a plot, this is wonderful.

[Wildfleour]

Talk about a turn of events! You told a gripping tale, here, Ralphy.